Finding Home
by SkyGem
Summary: Due to their parents' divorce, the Winchester brothers have never met in person, but maintain a healthy relationship through phone calls and emails. Sam has always looked forward to the day he'd meet the older brother he's always idolized, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that his first impression of Dean would be of purpling bruises and an eye swollen shut. Destiel.
1. On Your Doorstep

Summary: Due to their parents' divorce, the Winchester brothers have never met in person, but maintain a healthy relationship through phone calls and emails. Sam has always looked forward to the day he'd meet the older brother he's always idolized, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that his first impression of Dean would be of purpling bruises and an eye swollen shut.

* * *

Mary Winchester was in the middle of cooking dinner when the shrill ringing of the telephone tore through the air.

Reaching to turn down the heat on the stove, she turned and went to answer it, trying to remember whether she was expecting a call today.

"Campbell residence, Mary speaking," she answered upon picking up the phone, and was met only with silence. "Hello?" she asked in a confused voice, and again, there was no answer.

With a small, annoyed huff, Mary was just about to return the receiver to its place when finally, there was a small intake of air from the other side, and a barely there voice whispering, "Hey, mom."

Eyebrows shooting to her hairline in surprise as she recognised the voice, she blurted out a confused, "Dean." When there was no immediate response, Mary immediately felt worry begin to pool in her stomach. "Is there something wrong, honey? You don't usually call so early. Sammy won't be home from school for an hour."

"Mom…" he said again, his voice seeming almost uncertain, "How would you feel if I turned up on your doorstep right now?"

Bewildered, it took the blonde a second to respond, saying, "Well, I'd be ecstatic to see you again, sweetie. Why are you-?"

Before she could finish her question though, she was interrupted.

"And what if I told you dad had kicked me out because he found out I liked dudes?"

"What-?" choked out Mary, feeling the beginnings of realization clawing at her mind as he phone slipped out of her hand and clattered to the floor. Turning to look at the front door, she was frozen in place for a moment. Finally, she rushed to the door, throwing it open with perhaps more force than necessary, and stopped short when she saw the young man on her porch, standing with his head bowed, staring at the phone in his hand with a heartbroken expression.

He looked up when the door opened, surprise evident on his face, and when Mary met his gaze, she had to choke back a sob. There were ugly purple bruises on his cheekbones and forehead, and even on his collarbone and arms, and probably more hidden under the fabric of his shirt.

Even one of his beautiful green eyes was almost completely swollen shut, and he seemed to be favouring his right side.

"Oh, honey," she whispered, devastated as she tried to blink back the tears gathering in her eyes.

Taking his face gently in both her hands, Mary placed feather-light kisses on each of his bruises.

Closing his eyes, he leaned slightly into her touch, and Mary felt her heart break a little more.; what had happened to her poor baby? He seemed so starved for affection.

Pulling her much taller son gently into her arms, Mary said, "Now, you're going to come inside with me and we're going to talk about what happened while I clean you up a bit, alright?"

Not meeting her eyes, Dean nodded and followed her obediently inside.

A little worried as to why he wasn't looking at her, Mary led him to the kitchen and sat him down at the dining table.

As Mary went to the fridge for an ice pack, she watched Dean out of the corner of her eye, seeing him look around at the kitchen, which hadn't really changed at all since he'd left. A small smile tugged at a split lip, which she hadn't noticed before, and she made a mental note to clean the cut so it wouldn't get infected.

Wrapping the ice pack in a soft white tea towel, she handed it to Dean before taking another towel and wetting it, and fetching some petroleum jelly and setting it on the table.

Drawing a chair out from under the dining table, she gestured for Dean to curl his lip out, and as she set to cleaning it, she started talking.

"You know, sometimes, it's hard to believe that it's already been thirteen years," she said conversationally, trying to get some kind of reaction from her son, anything.

Dean still didn't look at her.

"But when I see you sitting in my kitchen like this," she continued, "grown into such a handsome young man, it really hits home. You're not my little boy anymore."

And here, his eyes flew up to meet hers, panic filling them.

Stopping her hands for a moment, she smiled softly at him, saying, "But you're still my son, which means you will **always** be welcome in my home. For as long as you want."

And here, Dean began fidgeting, his eyes gaining a hopeful cast to them.

"For a week?" he asked.

"Yes."

"A month?"

"Of course."

"A year?"

"You'll have to enroll in the local high school."

"…forever?"

"I don't think I'd be able to let you go now anyways."

By now, they were both smiling, and Mary patted Dean lightly on the cheek after spreading some petroleum jelly over the cut on his lower lip.

"There, all done. Now, you want to talk about what happened?"

Sitting back in his seat, Dean made a visible effort to keep his voice nonchalant as he shrugged, saying, "Not much to talk about. Dad caught me with my tongue down some guy's throat, beat me half to death, then dropped me off at Bobby's, saying that he'd have nothing to do with me until this 'phase' was over with."

And now, it was Mary's turn to try and reign in her emotions, and it was hard. It was hard to not go searching for that miserable bastard for what he'd done to her son, but she reminded herself that Dean didn't need this right now. It could wait for later. For now, she needed to make sure Dean felt safe and welcomed.

Keeping her voice light, Mary asked, "And let me guess, you snuck out of Bobby's house in the middle of the night?"

And at this, Dean's face turned a bright red. "O-of course not," he tried to deny, but stopped in his tracks when Mary quirked a sceptical eyebrow.

"You can't honestly expect me to believe that Bobby would let you out of his house all by yourself looking like that."

There was no reply from Dean, his gaze lowered to the floor, his expression sheepish.

"Now I want you to go call him and let him know you're alright."

An obedient nod.

"Do you have any changes of clothes?"

A head shake.

"Tomorrow, you and I are going shopping. For tonight we can just borrow a change of clothes from Castiel. I'm pretty sure he's about the same size as you."

And at this, Dean looked up, his embarrassment apparently forgotten.

"The Novaks still live next door?" he asked, seeming intrigued.

Raising an eyebrow, Mary said, "Of course. They're younger son, Gabe, is Sam's best friend."

An amused smile crossing Dean's face, he said, "Huh. Sam has mentioned before that Gabe had an older brother. Just didn't bother to mention that Gabe was a Novak. How's he doing? Still as weird as ever?"

"He's doing really well. Grown up really handsome," said Mary with smile and a suggestive wink, almost laughing out loud when she heard her son let out an embarrassed squeak, his expression mortified. Dean and Castiel hadn't really gotten along when they were younger. They hadn't hated each other, per se, just didn't really care for each other either.

"Now go on," she said. "Call Bobby. I'll head over to ask for some clothes after dinner is done cooking."

* * *

Dean watched his mother for a second as she turned to the stove, still feeling a little dazed.

This was all still so surreal, and it didn't help that she hadn't really changed much since he'd last seen her, and neither had the house; what he'd seen of it at least. It all made him feel as if he might wake up any moment now in one of the crappy motels he and his dad usually stayed in.

Shaking his head to get these thoughts out, the teen got up and headed out to the hall in search of the phone.

Finding it just where he'd remembered it being gave him mixed feelings that he tried to push away as he dialled in Bobby's number and waited for the old grouch to pick up.

"_Hello?"_ asked a voice on the other line when someone finally picked up, and Dean took a moment to steel himself for the conversation ahead.

"Hey Bobby!" he said in a bright voice.

"_There you are, boy!"_ the older man very nearly shouted in response. _"What the hell happened to you?"_

Wincing a little in guilt as he heard the obvious concern in his surrogate uncle's voice, Dean hurried to reassure him, saying, "I'm fine, Bobby. I promise. I'm safe at home."

"_At home? And just where is home? With your daddy? Because forgive me if I fail to see how that means you're safe."_

"Not with dad," replied Dean, trying not to stutter over the last word. "Home in Kansas."

This silenced Bobby for just long enough for Dean to start worrying, but when Bobby started speaking next, his voice had softened.

"_And how long are you going to be staying at home?"_

"For good," was the reply, a smile again tugging at his lips as Dean remembered that he was actually welcomed here.

Again, there was silence, but it was shorter this time. _"Well, give a guy some warning next, time, ya idjit. I nearly had a heart attack when I woke up to see you'd up and disappeared."_

"Yeah, sorry about that," replied Dean, still feeling guilty.

"_What's past is past,"_ was the noncommittal reply. _"Anyways, you be sure to come over for a visit when you can, alright? Need to reassure myself that you're alright, and I still haven't actually met that little brother of yours."_

"Sure thing, Bobby," replied Dean with a smile, happy that the invitation was open to the rest of his family, and at the reminder that he would be seeing Sammy again in the extremely near future.

"You know I can't stay away from you for too long."

Bobby just huffed a laugh in reply, saying, _"Well, I've gotta get back to work, now that I'll be able to concentrate, knowing that you're alright. Say hi to Mary for me, will you?"_

"Of course, Bobby," replied Dean, the smile still on his face and so caught up in the conversation that he didn't hear the front door open, or the sharp intake of breath that followed immediately afterwards. "Bye! And say hi to Ellen for me, won't you?"

Setting the phone back in its place, Dean then turned, ready to head back into the kitchen, but stopped short as he finally noticed the pair of eyes trained on him.

There, standing in the doorway with a gobsmacked expression on his face was a fourteen-year-old with familiar greyish-green eyes Dean would recognize anywhere.

"Sammy!" he exclaimed. "Welcome home! How was school?"

The younger boy just stood there, staring, for a while before rushing forward and tackling Dean in a fierce hug.

"Dean!"


	2. Perish the Thought

Sam looked once more at the clock, pleading silently for it to hurry the hell up and release him from the prison that was school.

These past five minutes had stretched longer than the rest of the day combined, and Sam was starting to get restless. Dean was supposed to call today, and seeing as it had been weeks already since they'd last talked on the phone, Sam had so much to tell him. It didn't matter that they constantly texted each other with random comments or useless information about their lives, there were certain things that you just couldn't communicate over texts. Not to mention that Dean hadn't texted in a few days and Sam was starting to get worried.

After what seemed an eternity, the bell rang, and Sam hurried to shove his things into his bag, going over to wait for Gabriel to do the same so that they could walk home together.

"What's got your panties in a bunch, moose?" asked his obnoxious best friend, looking up at him with a lazy smile that said he knew exactly what had Sam's 'panties in a bunch'.

"If you're not ready in the next five seconds, I'm leaving you," replied Sam shortly, causing his friend to roll his eyes.

"Fine, fine, I'll hurry," said Gabriel, unceremoniously shoving the rest of his belongings into his bag and standing from his seat. "I still don't know why you're always so excited to talk to your brother," he said as they began walking. "I mean, Michael and Luci don't even call half as often as Dean does, and it's still a chore having to talk to them."

"Yeah, but you've lived with them all your life, and they're only away for university. They still come back during their breaks. And, no offense, but they're not exactly…pleasant people, Gabriel," said Sam, thinking of his friend's twin older brothers. "Especially when you put them together."

"True," he replied, "But it's still weird. Anyways, you're still staying over tonight, right?"

"Yeah, right after dinner."

The two continued talking about meaningless things, and by the time they'd arrived home, Sam's earlier restlessness had lessened considerably, but his anticipation towards talking to his brother again had increased, if anything.

Saying goodbye to Gabriel, Sam opened his front door, and promptly stopped in his tracks, his mind refusing to process the scene in front of him.

Standing in the hallway, talking on the phone was a fairly battered-looking teen a few years older than Sam himself.

Sam couldn't really see his face, but he could hear his voice, which was causing the disbelief. A voice Sam hadn't expected to hear in person for at least a year longer.

The stranger-who-might-be-his-brother was just saying goodbye to whoever he was talking to – Bobby? As in _Bobby Singer?_ – and still hadn't seemed to have noticed Sam.

Upon hanging up, he stood there for just a moment, smiling to himself, before turning and finally noticing Sam.

Finally getting his first good look at the stranger-who-was-probably-his-brother, Sam saw that he was actually rather good-looking under all the bruises on his face, with well-defined jaws and otherwise flawless skin, and a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose.

The two of them just stared at each other for a few moments before the stranger-who-was-almost-definitely-his-brother's lips turned up into a wide grin and he exclaimed, "Sammy! Welcome Home! How was school?"

Sam stared at him for a moment longer, trying to reconcile the fact that it was indeed his older brother standing in front of him.

And before he even really knew what he was doing, Sam had rushed forward and tackled the older male in a tight hug.

"Dean!" he exclaimed, looking up at his older brother for the first time that he could remember. "What are you doing here?"

Quirking an eyebrow, the older male said, "Well, I _was_ here to see you and mom, but if you don`t want me here, I could g-"

"Don't you dare," growled Sam, glaring fiercely at Dean. "I only just got you back. I don't want to lose you again."

For just a second, Dean's smile softened, and something akin to tenderness entered his eyes, but just as quickly, the expression was gone, and he was smirking at Sam again, saying, "Well, I guess I could stay, if you really want me here."

Nodding his head vigorously, Sam said, "I always want you here, Dean."

"Always?" he asked, raising both eyebrows. "Even if I embarrass you in front of your friends and tease you mercilessly about your dates with girls and call you a bitch?"

Biting back a grin, Sam replied, "Yes. It'll piss me off and I'll call you a jerk in return and tell everyone embarrassing stories about you too, but I'll still want you here."

"Huh…" said Dean, looking as if he were thinking hard. Then, after a few minutes of silence, he said, "I guess I'll just have to stay here then, won't I?"

This effectively silenced Sam, leaving the young teen utterly bewildered.

"Wait…what?" he asked.

Chuckling slightly at his younger brother's reaction, Dean asked, "What, you going deaf or something, Sammy? I said I guess I'll just have to stay here. You're okay with that, right mom?"

Looking over at his mother, who had come to lean in the doorway leading to the kitchen some time throughout their conversation, Sam saw an amused smile on her face.

"Well, your room _is_ still pretty much how you left it," she replied, and it finally sunk in that Dean wasn't just kidding. He really was staying with them.

"You okay there, kid?" asked Dean, looking down at him, "You look like you're about to start hyperventilating."

"I can't believe you're actually going to be staying with us!" exclaimed Sam, hugging his brother tighter, feeling excitement building up inside him, filling him to breaking point.

Letting out an odd little gasp, Dean said, "Yeah, it's great that you're happy, Sammy, really, but do you think you could maybe let go now?"

Suddenly remembering all just how beat-up his brother was at the moment, Sam immediately unwrapped his arms from around the older male, taking a step back just for good measure.

"What happened to you anyways?" asked Sam, his brows furrowing, and Dean's expression tightened.

"Nothing," he replied quickly, before seeing Sam's pleading expression and continuing, "Just…dad _found out_."

Those words were accompanied by a meaningful look, leaving no doubt in Sam's mind what exactly it was their father had found out.

Dean had told him years ago of just where he stood on the Kinsey scale, and of his fear of how their father would react upon finding out. At the time, Sam hadn't believed that their father's reaction could be that bad. Seeing just how wrong he'd been, Sam almost felt like throwing up.

Just the thought Dean having grown up with the man who had done this to him made Sam feel sick.

Before he could say anything though, Dean ruffled his hair playfully, forcing a smile onto his face and saying in a mock light voice, "Now, enough about me, shortstack. You still need to tell me about how things are going with Jess and whether or not you're ever going to man up enough to actually ask her out."

Sam sighed, deciding to drop the topic for now, since Dean didn't seem to want to talk about it at the moment.

Yes, that was totally the reason he started filling in his brother about every conversation he'd had with his beautiful classmate since he and Dean had last talked.

Definitely not because he was pining over a certain gorgeous blond or anything.

Perish the thought.

* * *

Castiel could tell from the moment he stepped into his room that there was something different from usual.

He couldn't tell what exactly it was, but the scene before him just looked…off.

His bed was neatly made, as always.

His painting easel was in the corner with a cloth thrown over his latest piece, just as it had been this morning.

His curtains were drawn apart, letting the late afternoon sunlight filter through, giving him a good view of the window situated directly across from his own in the house next door, with the curtains eternally drawn closed due to the fact that its occupant no longer lived there, and hadn't for over a decade now.

His desk was, as usual, the only mess part-

Wait.

Turning back to look out his window once more, Castiel finally realised what it was that was different today.

The curtains of the window across from his, which had been closed for the past thirteen years, were now open, giving Castiel a good look inside.

The room hadn't changed much from the time he'd seen it, when his mother had forced him to go over for a play-date with a certain Dean Winchester back before the other boy had had to move away from his father.

The only thing that was different, from what Castiel could see, was that the person standing in the middle of the room with a slightly dazed expression on his face was most definitely not the same goofy four-year-old from all those years ago.

Time had given him a leanly muscled body and a strong jaw, and features that left Castiel breathless, even in spite of the bruised his beautiful skin.

He was turning slowly in place, studying the contents of the room intently.

Castiel stood there, staring at him, for quite a while before realizing quite suddenly that deep, forest green eyes were staring back.

Bringing his attention back to their owner, Castiel saw that he was smiling widely.

Walking forward and planting his elbows on the windowsill, the other teenager said, "Hey there little angel. Long time no talk."

"Angel?" asked Castiel in confusion. "Is that a flirtation?"

"It is if you want it to be," he replied with a wink. "But, correct me if I'm wrong here, Castiel, isn't that the angel of Thursdays?"

Castiel's surprise must have shown on his face, because moments later, the other teen was mock frowning at him, fighting valiantly not to smile.

"What?" he asked, "You don't have to look so surprised!"

"Oh…sorry," said Castiel, somewhat disoriented because this man was definitely _not_ what he had expected. Granted, Castiel wasn't entirely sure what he had been expecting, but it definitely wasn't this. "You're…Dean, right?"

"Right. Long time no see, Cas. Mind if I ask you a favour?"

Castiel's eyebrows furrowed slightly at this. They'd only just met again; what kind of favour would Dean want. "What is it?"

"See, here's the thing. I kind of left all my clothes with my dad before travelling out here to my mom's place, and now I have nothing to wear except the clothes on my back. Think I could borrow some clothes to sleep in? Or even just a pair of sweats. I don't mind sleeping shirtless. Mom and I are going shopping tomorrow, so it'd just be for tonight."

Slightly bewildered at the odd request, Castiel nodded, thinking that it couldn't do any harm.

"Awesome," said Dean, his smile lighting up his face. "Just ball them up and throw them over whenever you're ready, 'kay? I'll leave my bedroom window open. Anyways, I gotta go. Thanks again Cas!"

Castiel just watched him go, still not entirely sure what had just happened.

Dean Winchester may or may not have just flirted with him.

And they may or may not be kind of friend now.

What a strange encounter.


	3. Bestest Friends

Dinner at the Novak household was quite an affair, with Gabriel being as sulky as possible at the fact that his best friend had called him just minutes before, telling him that he wouldn't be coming over that night.

Castiel just stayed quietly lost in his thoughts for most of the meal as his younger sister, Anna, chattered happily away about her day and Gabriel stabbed viciously at his plate with his fork.

"Gabriel," said Castiel when his sister had paused in her rambling for a moment to actually take a bite of her food. "It would please me greatly if you could just stop being so childish and take a second to be happy that Sam is finally able to meet his older brother again. The two of you can have a sleepover some other time. Just let Sam enjoy Dean's first night back."

And suddenly, everyone was just staring at Castiel as if he'd suddenly grown a second head.

"What do you mean, enjoy Dean's first night back?" demanded Gabriel.

Tilting his head slightly to the side in confusion, Castiel asked, "Sam didn't tell you?"

"He told me that he wanted to spend time with Dean, but I just figured he meant talking on the phone, since Dean was supposed to call today," replied Gabriel with a huff. "How was I supposed to know he meant _actually_ spending time with him?"

"How do you know that, anyways?" piped up a confused Anna from where she was sitting.

"When I got home earlier, Dean was in his room," replied Castiel, and both Anna and Gabe stared at him in confusion.

A small smile on her lips, their father explained to his two confused youngest children, "Dean's room is the one across from Castiel's."

As expressions of realization dawned on Anna and Gabriel's faces, their mother turned to look at Castiel, asking, "Did you get a chance to talk to him?"

Nodding as he took another bite of his food, Castiel waited until he'd swallowed the food in his mouth before saying, "We talked a little bit. He needed to borrow a change of clothes because he left his own at his father's house."

"That boy always was a bit forgetful," replied Castiel's mother with a giggle. "Mary must be happy though, to have him back at home."

Castiel just nodded a bit absentmindedly, and as the conversation went back to Anna's day, he thought back to the day he'd found out Dean would have to leave.

* * *

_Castiel was happily playing in the sand by himself when he heard a quiet sniffle from the direction of the slide._

_Looking up in confusion, the child immediately abandoned the sand castle he'd been making to go find the source of the noise, worried that maybe one of his classmates had gotten hurt._

_Dropping to his knees and crawling under the dark little space under the slide, he was surprised to see Dean Winchester sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest and shaking with suppressed sobs._

"_Are you okay?" asked Castiel immediately, and the other boy's head whipped up, green eyes glaring furiously at him._

"_O-of course I'm okay," he replied angrily._

_Castiel stared at him for just a second before crawling over to sit beside him and drawing his knees up to his chest, mirroring the other boy's pose._

_Dean just kept glaring at him, but as the moments passed and Castiel just sat quietly beside him, not even saying anything, the fight seemed to drain out of him._

"_Daddy is leaving," he finally whispered after three minutes of silence. "And I have to go with him, and we're not going to come back and I'm not going to see my friends again and Mommy and Sammy aren't coming."_

_Castiel just continued looking down at his knees, his eyebrows drawn together in a perplexed frown. Nothing he could think of would be enough to make Dean feel better, and in the end, all he could do was wrap an arm around the other boy's shoulder and pull him close._

_Dean flailed for a moment at the sudden movement, surprised, and held himself stiff against Castiel's side, but didn't try to pull away._

_After sitting for a while in silence, Castiel wondering if he'd done the right thing, Dean finally relaxed against him, burying his head in Castiel's shoulder, his breathing slowing as he allowed himself to be comforted by the presence of a friend._

_The moment was, unfortunately, ended prematurely when the bell rang, signalling the end of recess._

_But as the day went on, Dean stuck close by Castiel's side, refusing to voluntarily talk to anyone else and only giving short, unfriendly answers whenever someone asked him a direct question._

_Castiel was the only one that didn't find himself on the wrong side of Dean's surly attitude that day, and when it was finally time to go home that day, both boys found that they were reluctant to say goodbye._

_And Castiel spent the next thirteen years regretting that he'd waited until the day before Dean left to become friends with the boy._

* * *

As the night wore on and the Novaks continued with their night as usual, the Campbell residence was quite different.

Now that the time available for the two brothers to talk to each other was no longer limited and too precious to waste, Dean and Sam had discovered something new about themselves.

They loved arguing with each other.

Not serious arguments that led to each of them shouting "I hate you" and slamming doors, more like silly arguments about whether pie was better than cake, or which movie they would watch after they were done dinner.

And throughout it all, Mary sat quietly watching over her boys, tactfully extracting herself from the argument when either of them tried to recruit her to their side.

It was a normal sort of night, the kind one might see in many household across the country, and each member of the small family revelled in it.

Dean especially could hardly believe that in less than twenty-four hours his life had changed so drastically.

Just yesterday he'd lain beaten and bruised in his bed at Bobby's, feeling unwanted and unloved, and now here he was, in the one place he'd always wanted to come back to, from the moment he'd left at four years old.

Once they were finished eating and the boys had helped their mother clean up, the three of them migrated to the couch and Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone was put on (obviously, Sam had won that argument).

Dean, completely drained from his rather busy day, lasted all of twenty minutes before he found his head drooping to his mother's shoulder and his eyes sliding shut, images weaving through his mind of a little boy with messy black hair and deep blue eyes. The words of a promise half-forgotten echoed in his mind, and a smile tugged at his lips.

"_I promise I'll come back one day and we can be the bestest friends! But you can't forget me, okay?"_

* * *

When Sam woke up feeling happier than usual, he was confused for a moment as to why that was.

Then, the events of the night before came rushing back to him, and he flew out of bed, hurrying down the hall to the door that had stayed closed for as long as he could remember, to the room he'd go to whenever he just needed to feel that his brother was real, that there'd been a time when he'd lived here.

He felt his breath catch in his throat as he opened the door and saw that the bed had been slept in and Dean's clothes from the day before were strewn across the floor.

The room was empty of any Deans however, and he turned and clomped down the stairs, searching for his older brother and eventually found him sitting at the kitchen table, drinking from a steaming cup of coffee, his eyes fighting to stay open.

When he saw Sam, though, a smile lit up his face, and he said, "'Morning Sammy. Better hurry up, or you'll be late for school."

And the mention of school had Sam turning to look at his mother with pleading eyes, though she couldn't see him from where she was standing at the stove, making pancakes.

"Mom! Can I please stay home today?"

And here, Mary turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"And just what is the special occasion, young man?"

"I want to spend the day with you and Dean! Please mom? There's only a week of school left anyways, so it's not like we're going to be learning anything anyways!" he pleaded, putting on his patented puppy eyes.

Mary, however, just ignored their frightful power with the ease of long years of practice, saying, "As you said, there is only a week of school left. You have plenty of time to hang out with Dean over the summer, alright? Now hurry up and get changed or you'll miss your bus!"

Defeated, Sam turned his gaze on Dean, who'd been watching the whole thing with an amused expression.

"Hey, don't look at me!" he said when Sam caught his eye, holding his hands up in surrender. "I'm not risking mom's wrath for your sake, shortstack."

And when Sam only kept staring forlornly at him, he sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I'll drive you to school if you stop looking at me like that."

And immediately, Sam felt a wide smile form on his face.

"Does that mean you and Bobby finished fixing up the impala?"

"Sure did!" was his reply. "How do you think I got here, dude? Now hurry up and get changed!"

Sam did as he was told, and about half an hour later, the two were walking out the door with a slightly disapproving Mary behind them.

"I promise I'll be safe," Dean told their mother with a quick peck on the cheek. "It's only a few blocks away, mom!"

With a slight huff, Mary waved the two of them off, and Sam made a beeline for the beautiful, shining black car parked in the driveway behind his mother's.

"Sammy, Baby. Baby, Sammy," said Dean, introducing the two, and Sam took a moment to roll his eyes at how ridiculously prideful his brother was of his car.

Not that he didn't have good reason to be.

She was beautiful.

Just as Sam was about to step into his car, though, the door of the Novak household opened, and out spilled the two boys.

"You really ought to try and be faster next time, Gabriel. The bus left five minutes ago!"

"Hey, it's not my fault! The human body was not made to be awake at such an ungodly hour! Anyways, what're you so worried about? It's not like you're going to be doing any work today!"

Before Sam could even begin to ask his brother whether it would be alright to give his friend a ride, Dean was alright calling out to the other two.

"Hey! Little angels! Why don't you stop arguing loud enough to wake the entire neighbourhood, and let me give you a lift?"

The two Novaks turned to look at Dean with varying levels of surprise which lasted only seconds before they were both running towards the car.

"Just be careful not to ruin the leather," Dean warned the two as they both climbed into the backseat, letting Sam have shotgun.

"I don't know how to thank you for this, Dean," said Castiel, a wide, relieved smile on his face.

"Dude," replied Dean, "I don't even know why you're so worried to get to class. There's only a week left, isn't there? I would've just gone back to bed."

"See?" exclaimed Gabriel triumphantly, poking his brother in the ribs to show that he agreed with Dean's statement.

Castiel's only reply was to roll his eyes at his brother and say to Dean, "Either way, thank you very much."

"No problem," replied Dean, a smirk on his face. "That's what a bestest friend does!"

Castiel looked stunned for a moment after he'd said this, but then his mouth pulled into a dazzling smile.

"It is."


End file.
